


The Pain, Secrets Hold.

by Purpletears



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Abandonment, Alternate Universe - College/University, Arguing, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Homophobic Language, Kissing, M/M, Major Character Injury, Making Love, Thunderstorms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2021-01-06 00:53:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21217859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Purpletears/pseuds/Purpletears
Summary: “Thank-you-very-much, Captain.” Oikawa bows mockingly. “I hope the satisfaction of fucking my ass every week makes up for the headaches I’m causing you—I’m sorry I lost everything.”





	The Pain, Secrets Hold.

“What?”

“You’re keeping secrets from me, Oikawa,” Ushijima says.

“Don’t you—You never ask, so why should I be the one to spoon feed you the answers. Why do I have to volunteer my past? It’s not like you’ve been laid out on a silver platter for surgery.”

“I don’t have to because I don’t overwork myself so much that it jeopardizes my career.”

“You don’t, do you? No, you’ve only got the injured boyfriend who doesn’t have a bright future because of his own stupidity.” Oikawa struggles against the temptation to jab his finger in Ushijima’s chest. “That’s what’s jeopardizing your career.”

Ushijima turns away, frustration visibly tensing every muscle.

“I’m not the only one at fault. You’ve heard the rumours. You have a future, so nobody cares who you are fucking but they care about me. You have the prerogative, the bright future, the unquestioning and all forgiving family,” Oikawa accuses. “You didn’t even speak to me after I told you what I planned to tell my parents because I was shit-scared of what they would say but—”

“Oikawa.”

“Now I know what they would say because they said it, straight to my face with a disgust I’d never thought my parents would bestow on me”

“It was your responsibility to tell your parents, I may have had my own opinion about it but what they said wasn’t my fault—I didn’t force you,” Ushijima snaps. “The mental and physical repercussions it had on you, had nothing to do with me. I warned you, your career and future’s at stake... I took a chance on you.”

“Thank-you-very-much, Captain.” Oikawa bows mockingly. “I hope the satisfaction of fucking my ass every week makes up for the headaches I’m causing you—I’m sorry _I_ lost everything.”

“Oikawa.”

“You ‘_took a chance_’ on me? So, what’s next? You dumping me or are you going to make me beg for your forgiveness, for you to take me back because I did something wrong that affects you?”

Oikawa’s voice drops an octave and he shift into a stance that draws attention to his dishevelled state—a reminder of earlier intentions. “Or does it turn you on having me beg? Oh please, Ushijima. Right there. So good, Ushijima. Take me! Fuck me harder, _you’re the best I’ve ever had_.” Throughout, he clutches his groin and makes obscene gestures and the little noises that usually accompany their sexual activities.

Ushijima can only take so much. Suddenly he’s closed the distance between them and invades Oikawa’s personal space. His fist is clenched between them. “Stop. You will walk out that door right now and you won’t attend practice tomorrow—for your own good. If I give up on you right now, no one’s going to want to invest in such a futile athlete with a _barren_ future.”

Oikawa’s jaw tightens, eyes flashing violently behind his glasses. “_Fuck you_,” he whispers.

Within moments the door slams against the wall and swings violently back into its frame. Ushijima finds he feels nothing at all but anger.

With one glance to the left he becomes overwhelmed with a strange feeling of guilt, as Oikawa’s jersey lays forgotten on the bench.

_God, It wasn’t supposed to be like this._

In Ushijima’s mind they would be on the national team. Both playing for their country, they could both concentrate on playing volleyball basking in each other’s presence along with their team. He could focus on helping his grandfather maintain the family farm; catching up on the lifetime worth of books he still hadn’t had time to read in school. His and Oikawa’s relationship would remain the same, they were supposed to be like that.

_Not like this._

He flopped down on top of the bench with his head in the palm of his calloused hands. The night he’d got the call his first thought had been that Oikawa was joking. It was the only thing he could think of that would cause that level of anger, grief and panic in Iwazumi’s voice but Iwazumi wouldn’t call that frantically for nothing. When he’d got to the hospital, he’d discovered the Oikawa was in fact still alive but in critical condition.

Four hours of surgery later, the doctor had taken Ushijima aside and explained about the damage the over-exertion and the fall had caused, what they’d been able to fix and what they hadn’t and what would heal in ‘due time’

Ushijima told the team and the coach some of it and he told Oikawa’s parents who seemed unbothered and uninterested in their son’s affairs. He made sure Iwazumi slept between calls to Oikawa’s close friends and drank the cups of coffee the nurses offered. Iwazumi had taken off after making sure Oikawa had made through surgery and his girlfriend had headed straight after him. Ushijima hoped that Iwazumi’s girlfriend would be able to take care of Iwazumi and that Iwazumi wouldn’t blame himself for not scolding Oikawa more.

Ushijima didn’t sleep that night; he stayed up waiting to be allowed to see Oikawa. Over the course of the next few weeks Ushijima took up a permanent residence in the hospital.

Oikawa himself slid in and out of consciousness.

Almost a month after the fall Ushijima sat next to Oikawa’s bed as Oikawa listened in complete solidarity to the doctor explaining to him about the damage, they hadn’t been able to repair physically and the damage that would repair over time. Oikawa showed no emotion, no anger or fear, but Ushijima could feel his hand shaking and he squeeze it tightly in his own, _I’m here, I will ways be here. I won’t leave you._

The overprotective nature that was birthed from Oikawa’s injury wasn’t supposed to be overbearing. It was supposed to be considerate, comforting and caring—he didn’t mean for his words to come out so spitefully. It was only after the injury he became wary and cautious of the plans for the future, he just wanted the best for Oikawa and himself.

And of course, when he got home, Oikawa wasn’t there.

He isn’t there for the rest of the week nor does he answer Ushijima’s phone calls—he just hopes he is listening to his voicemail and he knows how undoubtedly sorry he is.

It was a Thursday when a violent storm hit Tokyo, it lasted all day and he knew it was only going to get more vicious in the night—he hoped Oikawa would find his way home.

The loud crack of thunder woke him. His eyes flew open and for a split second, he was confused in that way that you always are right after you wake up.

Then the confusion evaporated, and he sat up quickly, eyes turning to look out the window on the other side of the room. Through it, he could see a bolt of lightning flash across the sky, and the rain pouring down, soaking the university courtyard. And the rain reminded him.

Oikawa.

His eyes turned away from the window to look at the bed next to him, where evenings before, the boy in question had laid wrapped safely in his arms, smiling that soft, serene smile that he knew was meant for him only.

But now the bed was empty, so painfully empty.

Startled by this realization, he rubbed the sleep from his eyes and slip out of the bed, his feet making harsh padding sounds on the floor. He groped around in the darkness for the sweatshirt he knew he had thrown on the back of his desk chair and was helped when another flash of lighting lit the sky, illuminating the room for a second, and revealing the chair and the sweatshirt.

He grabbed it quickly, pulling it over his head as he made his way to the door and softly opened it. Slipping out, he pulled it closed quietly behind him, and tiptoed down the hall way, so as not to wake anyone else. Coming to the hallway, he made his way down the stairs, making sure to step on all the right places so that none of them creaked.

Down in the hallway, he turned his head to look towards the common room, and indeed saw the figure of someone sitting on one of the couches.

“Oikawa?” he called softly down the hall.

Oikawa’s head turned sharply towards the sound, eyes wide and frightened. But another bolt of lighting illuminated the other boys face, and he relaxed.

“Ushi...” he answered, as his boyfriend began moving down the hallway towards him. “You didn’t have to get up and come find me, you know. You should go back to sleep.”

The brunette felt the couch dip, and a pair of strong arms encircled his waist from behind. Smiling slightly, he leaned back into the embrace and immediately felt safer and more relaxed.

“I wanted to,” Ushijima murmured next to his ear “I can’t sleep when you aren’t there.”

“You did that fine for the few days I wasn’t here” he snaps bitterly, but Ushijima knows he doesn’t mean it.

“I didn’t mean what I said.” He bites out.

Oikawa chuckled softly, but that ended abruptly when yet another bolt of lightning and a clap of thunder -both right on top of each other- reverberated through the house, and he visibly stiffened. Ushijima hugged Oikawa to his chest a little tighter, and the brunet relaxed somewhat.

“Thanks.” he muttered “I’ve just been so… jumpy these days. I’m sorry.”

“You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for.” Ushijima told him, brushing his lips gently against the shell of Oikawa’s ear, then moving up to press them to the boy’s temple. “It’s perfectly understandable, and I’m here for you Oikawa. Whenever you need me to be, okay? I’ll protect you. I won’t let anything hurt you ever again.”

Oikawa felt tears pricking at the corners of his eyes when he heard those words, and he snuggled back further into Ushijima’s arms. “I love you.” he whispered softly.

Ushijima smiled. He never got tired of hearing that. “I love you too.” he whispered back.

They sat like that for a long time, just listening to the sounds of the storm, feeling warm and safe with each other. It was only when Oikawa shifted in his arms, his thoughts became disrupted.

Oikawa manoeuvred in his arms to face him, Ushijima stared at him intensely, “What?”

“L-let’s go to bed.” He said with an uneasy nervousness.

Ushijima nodded, “Sure.”

Before they reach their room Ushijima kisses him, pushing him back against the wall. He doesn't expect Oikawa to kiss him back or let him have all the control over the kiss, but there it is. There they are. He slides his hands down Oikawa’s sides, curling his fingers around his hips and bites lightly at his bottom lip. Oikawa moans softly and it's still the hottest thing Ushijima’s ever heard.

"Sure you want do this?" Ushijima asks, giving Oikawa a chance to say no, to walk away from this, “It’s still so tense between us…”

Oikawa nods and leans back in for another kiss, then pulling away, “I don’t care. I need you.”

There's his answer.

A secret look, their secret look, one they've shared many times before, passes between them. No words are needed for each to know what the other is thinking.

The two boys slip off together, down a hallway full of people, yet no one watching could possibly imagine what lies at the end of their journey.

Their bedroom door opens, and the two fall in on top of each other, fumbling to remove clothes and shut the door at the same time.

Small, frail hands push a much stronger body against the door. A short, but passionate kiss is shared, before moving downward. A trail is left behind, but neither is concerned with how the bite marks running down the Oikawa’s neck and chest will be explained—if they needed to be explained.

Soon he reaches his destination. Even from outside the room, one could hear the fast beating of two hearts together, the unzipping of pants, and the gasps for breath, moans and cries that follow.

Before either boy can distinguish when or how, their bodies are tangled together on the floor. This was never enough, and for the first time, more will be sought. Desperately, whatever clothes remain are ripped off, and each new patch of skin revealed is savoured. Each new taste and texture is forever locked in their memories, and even the skin they had seen before seems new and different. Each time they do this, Ushijima feels like a teenager just getting to feel and experience this moment with Oikawa, he feels like he is on the court, fighting for a spot next to Oikawa.

Long and searching kisses are shared as the two fumble toward their goal. Ushijima explores Oikawa’s body, producing small cries and whimpers that seem to him the most beautiful music in the world.

Awkwardly at first, the two come together, fumbling. This isn’t something new for both of them but it feels as if it is, and an experience meant to be taken slow and remembered forever. There is no doubt that it will remain forever embedded in their brains, but time is not standing still, so things can’t be taken slow.

If someone were watching, it would seem to them an act of pure lust, something you’d find in a erotic book. But the new look shared by the two was of love. Pure love, the kind that cannot be easily mistaken nor lost. The kind that was driving those boys to the point that they were aware that anyone in the hall could hear their loud cries, but they did not care at all. They cared only for the person they were looking at, and no one else in the world mattered.

Despite the volume of their screams and moans, no one had come searching for them when they reached the edge, falling ungracefully over and landing still tangled together on the grey carpet, their cries still echoing off the thin walls of the room.

The gathering and replacement of clothes is ignored for the time being, as the lovers are perfectly content to stay entwined together on the floor. A few soft kisses are shared, and they stare into each other's souls, speaking with their eyes the words their mouths won't produce.

Finally, the first coherent spoken phrases of the encountered are shared, “It—it hurts so bad Wakatoshi.” He confesses, tears gathering in his eyes, threatening to fall over.

Ushijima tightened his grip on Oikawa’s waist as he lay atop his naked chest, “I know it does but your stronger than this. We are stronger than this.” He continued, “Don’t let it get the better of you. You will get better.”

Oikawa sniffed trying to force back his tears, biting his lip he placed a hand on a pectoral, “What if it doesn’t? What if I can’t play with you in the future? What if I can’t play for the rest of University?”

“You will.” Ushijima firmly states, “You just need to stop overworking yourself, you will get better in time.” He whispered, massaging the slope of Oikawa’s exposed back. Obviously the reassurance wasn’t working because he closed his eyes, turned away from the sight. Ushijima watched with a sigh, He concentrated on Oikawa’s laboured breathing as he drifted in and out of consciousness; raspy and dry, and hitched every so often, then wet and sticky.

Ushijima could feel his body swell and spasm as his lungs heaved and his remaining muscles flexed and strained and tensed. His own breath caught in his throat, too, and his stomach churned. He rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand.

Shit, Oikawa

The brunette shifted, snuffled, and groaned in pain.

“Oikawa.”

“No. I don’t want to hear it from you. I hear it from the doctors—I can’t hear it from you too. Telling me I’ll heal over time, over and over,” his body shakes violently, “again.” He pushes out, Ushijima pulled him over. His brown eyes were misty with tears that welled. He couldn’t speak, saving desperate breaths that sounded like the Ushijima’s name. Ushijima couldn’t bear see him like that. Fury and the itch for revenge boiled over in his belly, but the despondency in his chest was too heavy.

Ushijima grasped his hand and laid Oikawa’s head on his chest, holding him down as he thrashed and wailed and moaned and cried through the pain. The pain of his injury, and the pain of the thought of not having a bright future. Eventually, after what felt like forever, the man drifted off, face contorted in agony, Ushijima’s fingers in his hair. Tears stained Ushijima’s face and there he sat, waiting, protecting.

He wanted it to go away as much as Oikawa did.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you liked it. I absolutely adore this ship so I’m sure you’ll love it too!
> 
> Leave kudos and comments (comment your favourite line) if you’d like!
> 
> And subscribe to my account for more content when I upload!


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